


A Fire Has Been Kindled in My Anger

by ObliObla



Series: They Who Fight Monsters [2]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Chloe KNOWS, Dark, Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Original Character Death(s), Paralysis, Vigilantism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2019-07-01 01:08:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15763497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObliObla/pseuds/ObliObla
Summary: Dealing with the revelations about Lucifer has fractured Chloe's worldview, and brought into question who she is and how she should seek justice, especially for those the legal system failed.Adrift from everything she thought she knew, can she find her purpose again without falling into darkness?





	A Fire Has Been Kindled in My Anger

**Author's Note:**

> CW: Discussion of rape, depiction of paralysis, fire
> 
> This chronologically follows 'He Will Bear His Punishment', but this story is self-contained; a direct sequel to that story might show up later, but I make no promises.
> 
> Inspired by all the lovely comments on the previous work in this series: you want punishment, you get punishment.

The incident with Jacobson had burrowed itself into Chloe’s mind.

There were two parts of her now.

The Detective: brimming with self-assured competency. A true believer in the _system_ ; the police may have problems—a few bad apples—but ultimately they were a true force for good in the world.

And the other side, Chloe: a woman whose faith in the workings of the universe itself had been shattered. Who had seen the true face of Judgement—however broken and scarred that visage may be—and found her mortal structures lacking.

The Detective clung desperately to every rationale behind each officer-involved shooting— _each massacre by a cruel, unrepentant state_ —Chloe would whisper, in the corners of her mind. Every instance of corruption was merely a flaw in the grand design; brutality was a tragedy, to be sure, but one to be dealt with within the system itself.

_She was a good cop. She was a good cop. She was a…_

Bullshit, Chloe knew that much. Untethered, adrift; there was no paperwork, no flimsy piece of metal with LAPD inscribed on it to stand between her and the darkness: the fiery depths she saw when she looked in Lucifer’s eyes, but she would drown in that endless void if she didn’t stop herself.

_She was a good person. She was a good person. She was a…_

Nothing was left.

_What is your corrupt little organization going to do about it?_

She was alone. Yet…

He would have let her form a new foundation from the flayed skin of his hands, from the pure white wings on his back. But she could not let him define her.

*  *  *

Lucifer walked down the alley, unhurriedly; the sinners all came to him in the end anyway.

She followed, but she could not be a follower, not anymore. His Truth had broken her obedience; he had tempted her, finally, and she had tempted herself. They were both falling now.

She bit her tongue, tasting blood; the inexorability of his steps beating in her heart as they entered the building.

The darkness draped around his shoulders was the shroud where she had buried the innocence in her soul. Her fingers were numb around the grip of her gun.

_Tell me when to stop._

He was _her_ torturer now, but she couldn’t let herself become his Father; there were so many things she couldn’t let herself do. She wondered if she had the strength to stop before she tumbled into the abyss; she wondered if she wanted to.

The door swung open; it sounded like acceptance.

Their target slept, mind untroubled, against his fancy couch, in his fancy apartment. A security system began beeping quietly; Lucifer silenced it with a sharp glare.

_“We can’t become vigilantes.”_

_He chuckled, “You’re_ _the vigilantes; my power was imbued by the highest authority, the bastard.”_

_“But it’s wrong!”_

_“And what, exactly, do you know of morality?”_

_“We… we can’t kill people just because we want to.”_

_“Even if it will spare the suffering of innocents?”_

_“We don’t know that… and, anyway, I can’t…” nausea rose in her throat._

_“Fine. I will carry out the punishments; all you have to do is tell me when to stop.”_

And there it was.

Another frat boy, too rich for prison.

_The worst kind of filth; the activities I’d have planned for him in Hell._

Lucifer glanced at her, before approaching the sleeping man. He settled himself on the chair opposite. She moved behind the couch, slipping into a hidden corner.

He cleared his throat, “Good morning, darling. Sleep well?”

The man, jerked out of sleep, leapt to his feet. The sudden gleam of hellfire sent him crashing back to the couch “No…”

“Oh, yes,’ Lucifer grinned, teeth glimmering in the semi-darkness, “and please don’t bother trying to run. I find it… tedious.”

“Look, man, I didn’t… I didn’t _mean_ to—”

“You didn’t mean,” the shadows deepened; the fireplace—which had definitely been electric—burst into very real flames, “to rape that girl?”

“I… she just…”

“Oh I understand, my dear,” he licked his lips, capturing the other man’s gaze, “you _desired_ her, and she denied you your pleasure. Could make a man feel… well, rather _upset_.”

The man on the couch sighed in relief, “Yeah, _yeah_ man. She was lucky she even got invited to that party. I mean, I’m on the lacrosse team, my father is the best lawyer in the whole damn city and she…” he shook his head, “frigid bitch.”

The fire was well on its way to blazing; the cabinet doors in the small kitchen were shuttering, the dishes within shaking with barely-contained intensity, but their owner’s eyes were drowning in the Devil’s, and he knew nothing else.

“And was she… the _only_ one who refused you?”

“I’ve been with a lot of girls.”

“Undoubtedly, but there were a few, I believe?”

“Look, it’s not my fault that Melissa Heath got so wasted she passed out on the couch!”

Lucifer made a neutral sound.

“And…” the man’s face was desperate now, “Brianna Cartwright, I mean, I was 18… a kid!”

Lucifer nodded, soothingly; the windowpanes began cracking with the force of the heat.

“Vanessa Wu… I didn’t even do anything; Brian was the one that actually… I just helped him out; that’s what friends do.”

“Do you know,” Lucifer’s voice dropped dangerously, “how it feels to have control ripped from you? To lose your sense of self so thoroughly that you question whether you’re still a person, still real?”

He blinked; confusion spreading over his features.

Lucifer narrowed his eyes, leaning forward, “Answer me, Ethan.” The fire was licking at the walls; he gestured vaguely at it, it receded from the corner where Chloe still stood, eyes wide, on the only uncharred patch of carpet.

“I… don’t…?”

“Why don’t I show you,” Lucifer grabbed the back of his neck, pinching carefully, but brutally, past muscle and tendons.

A strange and terrible pop echoed through Ethan’s body, “What did you do?”

Lucifer withdrew; the flames tongued their way up the couch, the tendrils reaching Ethan’s jeans. He slapped the fire out, or intended to, but his arm didn’t move. “What the fuck did you do to me?” he tried to stand, to leap at the man still sitting across from him, but his legs rejected the order. His thigh was hot now, edging on pain.

“I cannot, well…” a look of disgust appeared on his face, “I _refuse_ to demonstrate exactly how your victims felt, but,” he spread his hands magnanimously, grinning again, “I think this is… appropriate, don’t you?”

“I… I can’t move.”

“No, I imagine not.”

His face broke; he panted, “Anything, I’ll do anything. Just… my father has money and I’ll… a deal, whatever you want…”

Lucifer stood, casually brushing ash off his shoulder, “There is nothing you have that I desire.”

Ethan screamed, the fire biting into him, “I… I’m sorry. So sorry… I _hurt_ people and I, I’ll ne… never do it again.”

“No, you won’t.”

Chloe approached them, stepping carefully to avoid the blaze.

Lucifer blinked at her, eyes almost pleading, “Tell me to stop.” The flames crawled over Ethan’s lap and up his arms; his voice cracked, tears streaming down his face.

“I…” she watched as the fire singed cloth, burned flesh.

_Vanessa Wu, Brianna Cartwright, Melissa Heath… Jasmine Daniels_

Jasmine Daniels, the victim who had dared to go to the police; who had watched as her attacker didn’t go to court, didn’t go to prison, didn’t suffer any consequences at all, didn’t suffer…

_He’s suffering now._

“ _Tell me to stop_ ,” Lucifer hissed, through gritted teeth.

“No.”

He stared at her, “Are you certain?”

She took his arm, pulling him out of the room; as they reached the threshold he turned, clenching his fist. The flames leaped, covering the apartment in a maelstrom of hellfire. She shut the door behind them.

They had well and truly fallen now; she wondered who had pushed who.

**Author's Note:**

> This depiction of Chloe is based on the idea that, despite being agnostic, her character is heavily dependent on faith; strip that faith away and she's adrift in a sea of moral relativism with her only landmark being the emotionally unstable former ruler of Hell whose system of morality is, honestly, also pretty sketchy.
> 
> I hope you like it and, if you have any suggestions about where you'd like this series to go, let me know!
> 
> I definitely need more random things to write about while procrastinating on my longer story :)


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